


Need

by Merci



Category: Tekken
Genre: Angst, Incest, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Sibling Incest, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-08
Updated: 2010-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/pseuds/Merci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee contemplates his relationship with Kazuya, how fucked it is, and why he wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Lee, Kazuya, or Tekken. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
> 
> This was the original beginning to my story King of Iron Porn. It was too angsty for that story, but I liked it on its own so I kept it as a moment in Lee's life where he's feeling particularly emo-tastic.

The claw marks on Lee's back were the only things that hurt the  
least at that moment. His stomach was empty, his skin was bruised  
and scratched, and there was this awful ache in his chest. He  
stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles tense and  
protest the movement after the hours of abuse they'd endured from  
Kazuya. Lee inhaled sharply, tolerating the discomfort earned from  
hours spent in bed, holding up his weight while Kazuya moved  
against him.

Kazuya's participation was eager and gruff, his countenance becoming  
more sinister and violent as their coupling progressed. Lee was  
accustomed to violent lovemaking from his brother and willingly took  
the extra scratches as the silk sheets coiled around their legs,  
dampened with sweat, and blood.

Lee braced himself on the window sill and tried to put a name to that  
ache in his chest, to identify the puzzling soreness that seemed to  
transcend physical injury. He was strong and healthy, he had money  
and power, he couldn't understand why he felt so... hollow. He  
thought on it, memory flashing before his eyes, triggering thoughts  
of the way Kazuya had looked at him as he'd walked out the door...

Lee squeezed his eyes shut and lit a cigarette. The memory pierced  
a part of him he didn't realized could be touched. As hard as his  
upbringing had made him, and as indifferent as he’d molded his heart  
to be, that one ineffable look from his brother had wounded his heart,  
and he _hated_ it.

Closing his eyes, Lee turned away from the brightness of the city below.  
The shadows of his room were no-more welcoming, however, and the  
sheets still held the peculiar smell of ozone left over from his romantic,  
incestuous tryst and he wasn't sure if he would tear them off the bed  
to wash them, or if he wanted to preserve that scent a night longer.

Kazuya fucking him, _wanting_ to fuck him, just wanting _him_.

Lee's cigarette snapped between his fingers and he pitched the broken  
smoke out the window. Despite all his power, Lee could not possess  
the one thing he wanted most. He moved to the bed and dug his balled  
his fists in the silk sheets, digging his nails into the damp material and  
ripped it from the bed.

He would never own Kazuya...

 _...and that's what attracted him._

He released the sheets, dropping them to the black marble floor in a  
ball and turned to his mirror. He straightened his back and brushed the  
silver strands from his face: he looked tired, drunk, well-fucked.  
“Pathetic,” he muttered as he turned to his closet to retrieve something  
to wear. Lee Chaolan wasn’t the type to sit in the dark and cry  
about his misfortunes.


End file.
